FORTY EIGHT

"GEORGIE! HAND ME THE remote!" Marina said, a soft giggle escaping her lips. She sat on her knees in front of the strange box called a "television" and was flipping through odd rectangles that held movies inside them.

It was Valentine's Day, and they were spending the remainder of the night at Marina (and Angelina's) flat (however Angelina was out for the night and probably wouldn't be coming back until early morning). The couple had gone out to eat to a muggle restaurant Marina had recommended. Now, they were at the girls' flat where George would be spending the night while Fred and Rory did whatever they were doing. Marina decided the pair should watch a movie on her television and George could pick out whatever VHS he wanted...?

However, he had no knowledge of anything she was going on about so he left the planning to her. He tossed her the small rectangle she called a remote and she caught it with a smile. She tucked a tuft of her black hair behind her ear as it fell over her shoulders so she could have a better look at their options.

"How about... The Princess Bride?" Marina beamed, bright eyed and cherub faced.

"Whatever you want, my bird," he nodded.

She pulled out a small black rectangle out of its casing and popped it into her strange machine. The image on the box changed. George really wasn't paying attention though, he was just looking at Marina in front of him, pushing buttons and adjusting herself on the carpet, propping one of her legs up and resting her chin on her knee.

They had changed out of their "fancy" clothing and into more comfortable outfits. Marina was just in a jumper and shorts but she still looked like an angel. After a minute or two of button pressing, the movie had begun.

"Should I get popcorn?" Marina asked, standing up.

George nodded and Marina scurried out of the living room into the kitchen. It was quick, making popcorn. She simply pointed her wand at the bag and it expanded, cooking each kernel perfectly. She joined him on the couch, slightly jumping on to it. George smiled as she nestled against him. He began absentmindedly running his fingers through her dark locks as he held her. Her gaze fixated on the film, his on her.

He listened as she described her favorite bits, quoted them, and explained certain parts of the plot he seemed confused about. George really didn't understand movies, but he loved making Marina happy. Their bodies had moved throughout the night, but they remained close. His head was in her lap, using her thighs as a pillow. His fingers lazily traced around her skin, admiring each stretch mark as if they were bolts of lighting during a summer storm.

Her hands were in his hair, softly scratching his head and sending shivers down his whole body.

Being with Marina was true bliss. He felt like he had been shot with Cupid's arrow.

Going out with Marina made him feel like he was going out with the most popular girl in school. Marina Dobbs fancied him! The most ethereal girl he had ever met was his girlfriend. She smelled like fresh picked strawberries and tasted like honey. She was perfect in every sense.

George Weasley was at her mercy.

"Georgie," she hummed softly, "The movie is nearly over... are you tired yet?"

"Not really," he said, then planted a dainty kiss on the inside of her thigh. He sat up and kissed her on the lips, again with the same softness.

"Me neither," she nodded, kissing back, "This has been the best Valentine's Day ever. I love the flowers and the new perfume, I can't wait to use it every day!"

"Anything for my girl," he smiled. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. He reciprocated and placed his hands at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him.

She was soft with each kiss, like sponge cake. He never wanted to stop once he started. Neither did she. She propped herself up and pinned her knees on either side of him, straddling the boy, kissing deeper and deeper, full of lust and passion.

"Oh, Georgie!" She broke away suddenly.

"What is it? Are you alright? Did I —"

"No, no," she smiled softly, "I just remembered I wrote you a poem!"

"A poem?" George raised an eyebrow. Marina gently climbed off him and ran into her bedroom. A few seconds later she reappeared, clutching a small piece of parchment. She smiled and handed it to George.

He read it carefully, as she watched him with loving eyes. He had never even heard of a girl writing a poem for someone. It made sense for Marina though, each letter she sent him when they were apart was like poetry. Each word touched with afflictions of her love.

"Oh, Marina, this is beautiful. You're so brilliant." He said, planting a kiss on her lips, tasting the sweet strawberry gloss on them.

"You think so?" She asked, "I'm glad you like it! Oh, Georgie, I love Valentiene's Day!" She returned to her previous position, on his lap, her arms around his neck, kissing him softly once again. He placed the poem on the end table beside him and kissed back, his hands softly touching her hips, not yet feeling her exposed skin.

Marina took his hand, and placed it under her jumper. He slid it up her soft skin until he felt the gentle lace covering her. His eyes widened and he pulled away with a smile.

"What's this?" He asked with a slight tease.

She bit her bottom lip and smiled, "It's a special Valentine's Day treat for you."

"Can I... see it?" He whispered.

She kissed him again, "Maybe..."

With a grin, he picked her up — causing a fit of giggles to escape her sore lips — and carried her into her bedroom, shutting the door behind him with his foot, just in case.

Meanwhile, back in Diagon Alley, Rory and Fred opened a fresh bottle of wine and danced to Hall & Oates in the kitchen.

They were slightly tipsy, not on purpose but they didn't protest as Rory poured them each another glass of alcohol. They had both forgotten to make a booking for a restaurant and decided to just cook together at the flat.

However, both were quite bad at cooking and when they had burnt their first attempt at lasagna, Fred ran down to The Leaky Cauldron for some takeaway. The pair had finished their food and somehow ended up trying to make cookies while wine drunk. Rory clad in one of Fred's flannels overtop nothing but a black bra and underwear while Fred was in his boxers and a loose tee shirt.

Rory pulled herself up onto the kitchen island and sipped her wine. The flat began smelling of fresh cookies and the kitchen was a mess. Sugar, eggs, and milk were flung carelessly around and landed on the counter tops, walls, and even on each other. A fresh smear of batter was across Rory's stomach and soft white flour sat in Fred's hair.

"Rory," Fred said, standing in front of her, softly running his fingertips up and down her legs, "I love you."

"I love you too," she smiled, kissing his forehead.

"I broke a rule," he said sheepishly, "I got you a gift."

"Again? Freddie!" Rory whined. She and Fred had once again promised not to get each other anything for Valentine's Day, and once again he broke that promise.

"Don't freak out! They're just socks! But I knew you'd like them and I couldn't help myself." He shrugged.

Rory smiled and rolled her eyes, "Thank you, Fred. Oh! I think the cookies are nearly done!" She brought the glass to her lips and finished the contents before jumping off the counter. She grabbed her mitt and opened the oven, the sweet smell of chocolate chip cookies hit her in the face. She carefully pulled out the cookie sheet and placed it on the stove top.

Fred reached to grab one but Rory smacked his hand, "Wait for them to cool, silly! You'll burn your mouth!"

He pouted at his girlfriend's scolding.

"I love this song!" Rory closed the oven and began dancing, while pouring herself another glass.

"It sounds... a bit sexy," Fred nodded.

"Everything sounds sexy to you when you're drunk! And sober for that matter," Rory giggled. She took a sip of the dark liquid and smiled as it touched her throat. The melodic sound of I Can't Go for That (No Can Do) filled her ears and the tiny flat. She grabbed her wand off the counter and pointed it at the record player, turning up the volume with a quick spell.

"And I'll, I'll do almost anything, that you want me to, oooh," Rory sang. "But I can't go for that, no no can do."

Fred stood there with a dopey grin on his freckled face, the same he had oftentimes when they were teenagers, falling in love for the first time.

"C'mon! I know you're hungry but you can still dance!" Rory said gleefully.

"Not a chance, Weasley," he rolled his eyes, they both froze.

"Did you just call me... Weasley?" Rory raised an eyebrow, childish butterflies filling her stomach.

He nodded slowly, "Sorry?"

"Don't be. I like it. Rory Weasley..." she beamed, "Its really pretty. Much prettier than Rory Archer but I suppose Aurora Archer is a bit smoother; although I don't like to be called Aurora in the first place so it doesn't even matter. Aurora Weasley sounds fine too. Rory Harrison is alright and I guess it's how I was born but..." she trailed on, a mix of drunkenness said and her awkward nature taking over her.

Fred ceased her sentence with a kiss.

She smiled against his lips, tasting the familiar cool of cinnamon. She stumbled into their bedroom, the record player beginning to play the next song Mano A Mano.

The sound of their giggles and soft loving moans was drowned out by the eighties pop rock musings of Daryl Hall and John Oates.

They could always reheat the cookies the next morning.

A/N:

STOP I LOVED WRITING THIS OMG... even though y'all are gonna complain and say you were robbed of smut i'm SORRY i wanted fluff !!

hope y'all are enjoying the fluff as of late, i wish it could stay this way but alas...